


Just a Little Cold

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Sam, Gen, Sick Dean, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:56:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean comes down with a cold but has to go burn a body with Sam anyway. Just some sick Dean and some caring Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Little Cold

Dean coughed the tickle out of his throat and looked at Sam.

"What?" he barked.

"Need a drink?" Sam asked, offering up a bottle of water.

"Thanks," Dean mumbled, taking the bottle from Sam. 

"You feeling okay?" Sam asked. He'd been noticing the little sniffles that were coming from Dean's side of the car and how he was squinting like he had a headache. 

"Yes Sam, I'm fine. Would you lay off? I'm trying to drive here." Dean snapped. 

Sam added irritability to the growing list of Dean's symptoms.

Dean held the bottle between his thighs as he twisted the cap off. His palms were sweaty, causing his grip to slip. "Little help?" Dean asked, handing the bottle back to Sam. Sam cracked it open and handed it back. Dean took a sip, easing the ache that had formed in his throat. He sighed and took another sip before putting the lid back on the bottle. 

"When we get back to the bunker I need to look up that. . . thing we found. What did you call it?" Sam asked. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "A warpple. But I don't even know if that's a thing." 

"Well, I'll find out." Sam said proudly. Dean smirked and pushed harder on the gas pedal. He really wanted to shower and climb into his big toasty bed. 

XXXXX

Dean sighed as the hot water pounded against his back, easing the tension that had been growing across his shoulders. He rolled his head around to stretch his neck. "You know what? Fuck it." Dean muttered to himself. He lowered his aching body to the floor of the tub and made the water hotter. He propped his head against his arms, letting the water drip down around his face. The steam was easing the constricted feeling in his sinuses and he could almost breathe through his left nostril again. Closing his eyes, Dean let his mind wander. It didn't wander very far before stopping on the ickiness he was feeling. He wasn't sick exactly, he just didn't feel /good/. He was tired. Really tired. Sleeping on his own bed at the Bunker had really spoiled him, so now sleeping in those shitty motels really screwed with his sleeping patterns. 

Shivering, he realized the water was turning cold. He turned the spray off and heaved himself into a standing position. His vision fuzzed black and he had to steady himself on the wall until he could see again. He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded to his bedroom. He pulled on a grey Henley and a pair of worn sweatpants before going back to the bathroom. He hung his towel on his hook and quickly brushed his teeth. 

He passed Sam in the hallway on his way back to his room.

"Hey, you wanna go-" Sam started. 

"The only place I'm going is to bed." Dean interrupted. 

"Oh, okay. Tomorrow night then." Sam said. He grew concerned when he noticed how the color was missing from Dean's face. 

"Whatever you say Sammy." Dean said, walking to his room. He pulled the blankets back and laid down under them, sighing as the memory foam absorbed his body.

XXXXX

Sam glanced at the clock. It was already past noon, and he hadn't heard a peep from Dean. Deciding that he should check on his slumbering brother, Sam padded down the hall to Dean's room. He knocked softly before pushing the door open. Dean was buried under his blankets. Sam could hear Dean's congested breathing. He didn't dare feel Dean's forehead, but from the flushed look on his cheeks Sam guessed he was running a fever. Closing the door silently, Sam went into the bathroom to check the med kit. They were out of Benadryl, and Dean was a sucker for the pink pills. Sam left a note on the bathroom counter before heading to the closest Rite-Aid.

XXXXX

Dean woke up to snot dripping down his face. He groped the bedside table for tissues and blew all the green gunk from his nose. His throat stung when he swallowed, his head felt like it could explode at any second, and he felt feverish. He shivered as he sat up and placed his bare feet on the cold floor. He tugged on an old hoodie of Sam's and made the trek to the bathroom. After he used the bathroom he noticed Sam's note. 

D-  
Gone to the store. Be back soon.  
Sam

Dean left the note on the counter and went into the kitchen. There was coffee in the pot but Dean wasn't in a coffee mood. He boiled some water and made himself a cup of herbal tea with honey mixed in. He carried the mug in his shaky hands back to his room and crawled into bed. Sipping at the tea helped his throat, but the rest of his body was miserable. No matter how many times he blew his nose he couldn't breathe through it. His head hurt and he felt like he wanted to cry. He didn't know why, but having a fever always made him want to cry. He snuggled down under the covers, abandoning the little bit of tea he hadn't finished for the pull of sleep.

XXXXX

Sam stuck his head into Dean's room when he got back to the Bunker. His brother was sleeping, but had been awake long enough to make some tea and pull on a hoodie Sam had "lost" ages ago. Sam quietly carried the bag of supplies he'd bought into Dean's room and set them on his dresser. 

"Dean. Dean? Time to wake up." Sam said softly, gently laying a hand on Dean's forehead. He felt warm, but not alarmingly so. "Dean." 

Dean groaned and cracked his eyes open. "What do you want?" he croaked. 

"I went to Rite-Aid and got some stuff for you. Benadryl, Nyquil, and some Gatorade. I gotta take your temperature." Sam explained. He took the thermometer out of its case and held it out for Dean to take. 

"I got it, I got it. I'm not even really sick. Just a little cold." Dean muttered before sticking the thermometer in his mouth. 

Sam poured out a dose of Nyquil and set a bottle of Gatorade on the nightstand while he waited for the thermometer to beep. He looked over at Dean, who's eyes were closed. When the thermometer beeped Dean's eyes shot open and he pulled the instrument out of his mouth to take a deep breath. 

"Can't breathe through my nose." Dean explained when Sam gave him a questioning glance. "Only 99.4. No big deal." Dean reported. 

"Sure it's not. Take this anyway." Sam said, handing Dean some Tylenol and the Nyquil. Dean swallowed the pills and the cherry flavored gunk even though it made him gag. 

"That stuff is so gross dude." Dean whispered, hand over his eyes. He shuddered and pulled the blankets back up over his shoulders. "Hey, have you found a new hunt yet?" 

"I know it's gross but it's magical. And no," Sam paused, unsure about why Dean wanted to go on another hunt so soon after the last one. "Not yet. I'll let you know if anything shows up." 

"I'll be ready to head out in the morning, so find something with those magic fingers of yours." 

"Whatever you say Dean." Sam said, leaving the bedroom. He knew there wasn't a point in arguing with Dean about whether he was well enough to hunt or not. According to Dean he was never sick enough to sit out on a hunt. 

XXXXX The Next Morning

Dean crawled out of his mountain of blankets and headed for the shower. He had heard Sam walk in and check on him earlier. He knew Sam was skeptical about going on another hunt, especially after Dean had been running an, albeit small, fever. Dean was slightly surprised that he felt as good as he did. He wasn't one to complain, but he felt like hell the day before. Now only his nose was stuffy and an occasional chill ran through him. Nothing sick about that. 

After he showered Dean got dressed and went to the kitchen. Sam was sitting at the table reading the paper with some coffee. 

"Morning Sammy." Dean said as he poured himself a mug of coffee. 

"Morning. Feeling better?" Sam asked. Dean looked a little better. The fever flush had disappeared from his cheeks but he was still pale. Too pale for Sam's liking. 

"Yeah, tons." Dean answered sitting across from Sam. "Find a hunt?"

Sam paused, looking up from the sports section of the paper. "I did. You sure you're up for it? I can call someone else." 

"Hell yeah I'm up for it. Where are we going this time?" Dean asked, pulling a section of the paper towards him. 

"Beach, North Dakota. Looks like an angry spirit." Sam answered. He knew it was a haul to get to North Dakota but he and Dean were the closest according to the other hunters he'd been in touch with. 

"I hope there's a beach there. I could use a good tan." Dean smirked, downing the rest of his coffee. 

"Dean, North Dakota is surrounded by land. And it's November." Sam stated. 

"Lighten up Sammy! I was just joking. Now come on. We've got a drive ahead of us." Dean said, turning to go back to his room to pack a bag. 

XXXXX

"You pick the music." Dean said, pulling the Impala out of the garage. 

"I- I pick? Really?" Sam asked, totally shocked by Dean's invitation. 

"That's what I said. No hurry up and pick something before I change my mind." Dean said. He shivered and wished that he'd started the Impala early to let her warm up before they drove off into the sunset. 

Sam shuffled through the cassette tapes in his box before picking one that they hadn't listened to in a long time. Dean started tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song, and Sam shrugged. If Dean was letting him pick the music he was either feeling way better than he had been the day before or he was about to die. Sam wasn't sure which it was.

XXXXX

The drive to Beach took just as long as Google said it would. Dean and Sam swapped places halfway so Dean could get some sleep. (Sam was almost convinced that he was dying. Or possessed.) They crashed in a motel when they got there and started in with the FBI interviews the next morning. 

"So, what you're saying is that Mr. Green was... cremated?" Dean asked. His head was starting to feel full of fuzz and it was hard to remember what the woman they were interviewing was saying. 

"No. We wanted him cremated but the funeral parlor thought it was a bad idea."

"Did you keep anything that might have been a part of him? Like a lock of hair or a tooth or anything like that?" Sam asked, taking over for Dean. Dean nodded when Sam looked at him questioningly. The woman kept talking and answering all the questions Sam asked her. While she was showing Sam her dead husband's favorite baseball collection, Dean took the chance to look around. Nothing seemed out of place. He cleared his throat to try and dismantle the tickle that was staying there no matter how much he swallowed. Clearing his throat only made it worse and he ended up coughing harshly into his elbow. He sighed as he sat on the edge of the couch. His head was starting to pound and he felt feverish again. Not to mention the way his throat was burning and his nose was plugged. 

"Well thank you for your time. I'll call you if anything else comes up." Sam said once Mrs. Green showed him back to the living room. 

"Anytime dear." she said, opening the front door. Dean hoisted himself up on wobbly legs and nodded to the woman as he followed Sam outside. The November wind whipped across Dean's sturdy frame and made him shake. 

"Wanna head back to the motel til it gets dark?" Sam asked as they hurriedly climbed into the Impala. 

Dean cranked the engine and pulled out onto the street. "That's what I was thinking." Dean answered. 

Sam watched his brother closely from the passenger side. Dean wasn't acting like himself in that woman's house. Now he just looked sick again. 

"Will ya stop monitoring me? I'm fine." Dean said. He could see Sam staring at him out of the corner of his eye. 

"Are you feeling sick again? You didn't look good at all while you were talking with Mrs. Green." Sam asked. He was glad he'd packed all the supplies he'd bought at Rite-Aid. 

Dean shrugged and sneezed accidentally. "I'll be fine. Just a little tired from all the driving yesterday." 

"Yeah, okay. Once we burn this dude we can head home and take a break for a few days." Sam said pulling out his phone. 

Dean sighed once he was inside the motel room. When Sam disappeared into the bathroom Dean turned the thermostat up and sat on his bed. He rested his head in his hands and wondered what was playing on tv. He didn't have the energy to get up to get the remote, so he just kept wondering what was on. 

"Dean? You with me?" Sam asked touching Dean's shoulder gently. 

Dean jumped and looked up at Sam who was looking down at him, his face screaming concern. "What? I'm here. What did you say?" 

"I asked what you wanted to do for dinner. It gets dark early here so we can head out in a few hours." Sam repeated. He was growing worried about Dean. 

"Oh, I'm up for whatever. Not really hungry. Had a big breakfast." Dean lied. He wasn't hungry, but it wasn't because of breakfast. He'd only been able to manage a slice of toast and some coffee.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look like shit man." Sam said sitting down across from Dean. "I can manage this burn on my own." 

"I'm fine Sam. And there's no way in hell you're going out to do a burn on your own. Remember the last time that happened? You almost died. Never again Sammy." Dean said, rubbing his head. 

"Okay, okay." Sam stood up and went to dig through his bag. "At least let me take your temperature. I need to know what it is now so when we get back later tonight and you're almost dead I have a reference point."

Dean sighed and took the thermometer from Sam. He stuck it in his mouth just to get Sam's bickering over with. Plus he wanted to see what his temperature was. He did feel pretty shitty. He looked at the screen when it beeped. 101.2. 

"Take some Tylenol. If it's not lower by the time we leave to go to the cemetery you're staying here." Sam said. He had to take control of the situation before Dean ran himself into the ground. 

"Fine." Dean said, swallowing 4 pills. Sam watched as Dean laid back on the bed and put an arm over his eyes. He could Dean shivering. Sam sighed and laid his blanket over Dean and went to the table to research some stuff on sicknesses Dean might have come down with. 

XXXXX

"Dean, it's dark now. Let's go get this over with so we can head home." Sam said, stretching from his seat at the little table. 

Dean jumped and then looked around. He relaxed when he saw that it was just Sam with him. "Time to go?" he asked, his voice cracking. 

"Yeah. But temperature first." Sam said handing Dean the thermometer. Dean rolled his eyes and stuck the instrument in his mouth. 

It beeped a few minutes later and Dean looked at the screen. "99.8. It's lower. Let's go." he said, tossing it on the nightstand. 

"Fine. But let me know if you need to come back. I'll go out again after I drop you off." Sam said, pulling on his coat and a hat.

Dean scoffed. "Right. Like that's gonna happen."

XXXXX

Dean clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. 

"Dammit Dean, next time tell me you're dizzy will ya?" Sam snapped. He'd had to haul Dean's ass back to the Impala after he passed out watching the bones burn.

"S-sorry." Dean whispered. He curled into himself in the passenger seat and waited for Sam to hurry up and drive back to the motel so he could warm up a little bit. 

"Here, before you freeze to death." Sam reached into the back seat and pulled a blanket over Dean and put his own hat on Dean's head. He cranked the heat and wished the car warmed up faster. 

The ride back to the motel was silent. Sam was pretty sure that Dean had fallen asleep, but he didn't want to risk getting his hand bitten off if he tried to check Dean's forehead. 

Pulling up outside the motel proved that Dean was awake, because he was up and moving before Sam had even shut the car off. Sam followed him into their room and prayed that Dean wasn't going to throw up. Sam hated to watch people throw up. Instead of rushing to the bathroom, Dean rushed to his bed and barely even had time to take his boots off before he was curling up under the blankets. 

"Take some more Tylenol before you fall asleep." Sam said, pouring some pills into Dean's palm that came out of the pile of blankets. Dean swallowed them with difficulty and then let himself drift off into a restless sleep. Shivers racked his body all night, and when he wasn't sweating he was freezing his ass off. 

XXXXX 

The next morning Sam loaded Dean into the pre-warmed Impala and headed back towards the Bunker. He was able to make the drive in almost one sweep, only having to stop for gas once. 

Dean slept most of the way home, only waking a few times because his head lolled painfully to one side or because of Sam's singing. The next thing he knew he was tucked into his bed in the Bunker, Sam sitting in the chair at his desk. 

"What time is it?" Dean asked. He noticed that he felt better, and his nose wasn't hardly stuffed at all. 

"You were sleeping for almost 24 hours dude. Not sick my ass. You feeling better? Still look like shit." Sam asked, coming up to Dean's bedside. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Was never sick Sammy. Just a little cold." 

Sam laughed and sat back at the desk. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, man. Whatever helps you sleep."

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews would be great! Thanks for reading!


End file.
